The Inbetween Time

2009-11-06T06:48:00.002-06:00

Thanks for checking out my old posts!

For the moment I'm not posting here, but have started writing with a few friends at a place called Faith and Geekery. Thankfully the title is self-explanatory, otherwise I'd have to spend a lot longer on what we talk about over there.

Come say hello!

2008-07-11T00:58:00.000-05:00

How to buy a child slave in 10 hours, starting in New York.

2008-04-16T09:44:00.002-05:00

It's the middle of April, and we (hopefully) just got past our last snowstorm of the season. It was 65 with a bit of light at 8pm last night, and even if it was windy, I was walking by the iceless Mississippi. We've got months of this ahead.

Time to celebrate with some music by The Choir. I hope they don't mind, I've managed to buy this album twice and receive it a third time as a gift.

The song is The Choir's "Spring" from the CD "Speckled Bird" Get it here.

Spring is finally here.

2008-03-10T21:49:00.002-05:00

One more fashion post, but I'll probably use it to transition into something else later.

Yes, it says "Jesus is a love machine." I know making fun of Christian T-Shirts is like shooting fish in a barrel, but the source is magazine/site called "Relevant," which made its name on being counter-cultural in its approach to faith: openly questioning the consumeristic Evangelical world of CCM, self-help books, politics, and T-Shirts. I guess it's come full circle.

I'm terribly irrelevant.

2008-02-10T02:39:00.000-06:00

This is blindingly obvious to anyone who knows me personally, but I don't get fashion.

I get looking good, dressing appropriately, and putting effort into what you do. I get that what you wear can be a statement that speaks louder than anything you say. On the other hand, I once fought with my parents over wearing a tie to Easter Sunday services. I was 6, but I seem to remember that the thing came off pretty quick and subsequent holiday services were not met with success. Even band and swing choir (yes, I admit it) uniforms were met with the utmost suspicion later on.

I guess it's understandable that I'd eye most of the fashion industry with the same amount of suspicion these days. Being male, that's mostly inherent. Male fashion is like a wedding, there's a woman making all of the plans with her friends while the guy would be quite content to just drive to Las Vegas or the Mall of America dressed like Larry the Cable Guy. The Beer and Pizza reception is optional.

Still, I don't think I could ever understand this:

And then there's this from the "I vant to dreenk your blood" collection:

The price for this is over $2000. A trip to Savers on November 1st could get you a cheap knockoff for about $25.

Look at this guy's expression. You've seen it on every cat who has been dressed up as Harry Potter or Superman on Halloween. There's embarrassment, contempt, and revenge all in one simple look.

Remember that look, and have it imprinted in your memory every time you try and make your husband, boyfriend, child, or cat dress up for a major outing. He will find a way to get even, and it may be showing up to your sister's wedding dressed like this guy.

2008-02-08T02:38:00.000-06:00

This post again.

2008-01-21T05:53:00.000-06:00

Forgive me if this is a little sprawling and disjointed. It's been on my mind for awhile.

It's cliche to say that, as Christians (and worst of all, those Evangelical, American, Westernized Christians -- take a drink whenever a criticism of said Christians takes place without defining any of those adjectives) have our priorities unbalanced and tend to make Jesus in our own image. We get a lot wrong, and we're reminded of it daily. I can listen to the radio station I work at and the pastors and speakers on there will let us know in no uncertain terms what it wrong with all of us. The irony that each of them will tell us something different and occasionally contradictory is not lost on me.

So with that in mind, I had an example that I can't escape, and I wanted to zero in on my own life as an example without sounding too narcissistic.

Barring notable exceptions, we don't suffer for our faith - and we act like like this is the ideal way to live. We avoid suffering. I avoid suffering. Not in a masochistic way of one with a martyr complex would, but in a way that is inevitable.

For example, I live in the suburbs of a wonderful city and drive an Interstate 10 minutes to work in another suburb that is even less dangerous than this one (and I supposedly live in a "rough" 'burb). My church is 20 minutes away (same interstate, different direction) in what was the outskirts of the Metropolitan area just 10 years ago. You can see the cemetery and farm houses right next to the megachurch and tract housing - both standing firm in their attempts to remind people of what was once there. I can walk to the grocery store; I can even walk to one a little further away at 3am if I wanted to and nothing would happen to me. I can drive 20-30 miles in every direction and be covered in upper/middle class city. There will be a Target, Wal-Mart, Cub Foods, Super America, or Best Buy at every turn. I will be able to afford something at every one of them; I could probably buy a lot if I wanted to. Even if I couldn't afford it out of pocket, I could get someone at those stores to look at my credit and give me a decent rate on those things. If statistics dictate, I'll marry and have kids who will also see this kind of living as perfectly normal.

But it's not normal. It hasn't been for most of humanity for the past 2000 years since Christ was born - and it certainly wasn't before that. A world of desperate need where disabled people move by dragging themselves on the ground on a piece of cardboard and a stick is a plane ticket away. The poorest county in America is not even a three hour drive from where I grew up. I'm 10 minutes from the teenage pregnancy and AIDS capitol of the country.

For someone growing up with so much, we can easily lose sight of how much this culture throws itself at us, and how much as Christians we have bought into it. While we have a great country, I think we unquestionably buy into the belief that we are "endowed by [our] Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." That may work for arguing against a domineering empire, but I think we Christians in America (and elsewhere no doubt -- I get Christian TV from around the world) tend to think that liberty and the pursuit of happiness are our rights. Somehow we are deserving of them.

My problem is this: our lives are not our own. Christ never promised us that happiness would follow our lives around. I know I'm guilty of a mentality that says I am to deny myself in one breath and then act as if seeking my own happiness is sanctioned by The Lord. Not that happiness is bad, but since we live in a country where this mentality is a cornerstone, we as Christians need to be constantly aware of what our culture and world calls success.

But what if what Christians in America need the most is the antithesis of our definition of success? I love our President (both out of desire and duty, and both political aisles are guilty of this so don't gloat too much!) but his plan for the recent downturn in the economy is to give people more money to buy more stuff. It was the plan after 9/11 made much of the markets shaky. The economy may be saved, but what does it say about our country if we think we need to consume more unnecessary materials to save ourselves? Doesn't that fly in the face of our faith?

I don't want to romanticize those who suffer and those who have poverty as a way of life. They're just as guilty as the rest of us - and history tells us that greed and covetousness know no income bracket. However, when Christ said to deny ourselves - am I doing this? Can I call this life overloaded with stuff denial? If I were unsure of where my next meal was, would I still call myself a follower? I was out of full-time work for 19 months and I was angry with God. I was homeless for a night and I was scared. As Christians in America, could we handle drought, economic crashes, persecution, and poverty with the same pretense of contentment we have now?

Again, sorry for the long, rambling, occasionally navel-gazing tone this has taken. Honestly, there are two competing thoughts in here -- or at least two main thoughts competing for dominance. I may flesh out some of it in the future, we'll see.

2008-01-10T03:32:00.000-06:00

I'll be getting back into the swing of things here again, but for now here's a song by Derek Webb.

With the political season in already here (the Presidential Election is like Christmas - the ads and the displays are up earlier every year), this is some good perspective - and yes, this includes your favorite candidate:

2007-11-16T09:51:00.000-06:00

It seems like The U.S. stops two and a half days a year. We're coming up on all of them in a 5 week period.

It always seems that the strangest time to travel, at least for me, has been at Thanksgiving. The first hour or two is spent in traffic, crawling about 10 miles every half hour at the most. Then after you finally hit the end of the exurbs -- nothing. Shops are closed up, a few drivers are headed the other way, gas stations are staffed with only one person (potentially a student home from college for the long weekend making some cash), and even the radio stations seem to have packed up for the weekend. On Thanksgiving in rural parts of the country little is open and even "Black Friday" is just an overhyped event happening over an hour away.

The other day is Christmas Eve, and my favorite experience of the season is leaving church that evening and driving through the near-silent city. The malls are closed and the streets are empty. To me, it's nice to see that even this country that doesn't slow down still knows how to take a break twice a year.

2007-10-16T23:42:00.000-05:00

This is a test. It is only a test.

(The song is "A Beautiful Collision" by David Crowder, By the way...)

2007-10-03T18:10:00.000-05:00

Note to Netflix:

Yes, I've rented a few movies under the "Family" section as well as a few other animated films. They released the first Sesame Street episodes, so any normal person who remembered the pre-Elmo years is going to be a bit nostalgic. Since they did the same thing with The Electric Company, I decided to rent this as well.

That doesn't mean you should assume that I wanted to find "Strawberry Shortcake: Cooking Up Fun" on the list of "Movies You Might Enjoy." It also tells me that if I liked The Electric Company, I'll love the first season of "Maude" - because apparently those kids watching hippies teach us vowel sounds are going to scramble over afterwards to watch Bea Arthur sitcoms.

2007-09-25T07:57:00.000-05:00

I think one of the things I love about the Black Hills is that it's layered, sometimes in a contradictory way.

The first thing people think of is usually the tourism industry: Wall Drug, Mount Rushmore, Deadwood, Reptile Gardens, and more. They're things everyone tries to hit when they go, depending on who they are with and how often they go. Each one will have tons of people, will likely have kids, and will probably sell you souvenirs. There's nothing wrong with this of course - I made it to Wall Drug and drove by Mount Rushmore when I went. I always like to stop at Wall Drug, in part because there's not a lot before when driving from the east.

The next "layer" I think of is the natural one - the ones that are largely not man-made. The Beauty of Custer State Park and the leisure of driving the loop is the first thing I think of. The buffalo usually find just the right spot in the middle of the road to stop and stare at the cars.

Of course, the caves and forest are another part of this layer. Here, the crowds thin out a bit (although maybe not too much, since the cave tours sold out frequently in the summer), and you're likely to find your own place to explore. This is where you spend the afternoons and evenings when you've spent all of your money and want to enjoy the scenery.

And then there's the third part: the outskirts.

I don't know why this amazes me, but less than an hour away from the crowded parking lots of Mount Rushmore and tourist shops of Keystone are little towns that are about as authentically "Old West" as you can get. Personally, I recommend taking time on a trip like this to drive through some of the older parts of the area that don't get the usual attention. I remember vividly driving through Fairburn and Buffalo Gap with my grandparents -- both towns looking like they've withstood a few lifetimes of population surges, violent bar fights, the post office moving in, the post office moving out, and a few people who still live there who can remember most of it.

Before I hit Wall Drug (already about an hour behind where I wanted to be), I decided to drive by a little dot in the map called "Quinn." There's not much there, but as soon as I was off Interstate 90 I went from smooth pavement to mud and dirt roads - some even going through cattle yards (with the cattle staring at me as I pass through their fields) and ended up in front of this bar:

Every little town miles from anywhere should have a bar called "Two Bit."

2007-09-12T00:30:00.000-05:00

With Madeleine L’Engle's death last weekend, everyone has something to say. I read "A Wrinkle in Time" in 8th grade when a lot of the class stayed far away from it -- mostly the guys. The teacher's description of a girl who saves her family may not have been the most macho thing for a 14 year old to read. However by the end of the quarter, I had convinced 3 or 4 to look into it and they seem to have changed their minds.

I read "Walking on Water" in college and managed to have a few copies of it by the end of class - I'm not exactly sure how. They've been borrowed frequently since. While I'm probably not as "liberal" (a silly, unhelpful, word - I know) as she is, I still get a big kick out of some of her thinking. "If it's Bad Art, it's Bad Religion" has been a mantra of mine for over a decade now, realizing that our efforts in our creativity reflects on our faith and our God not matter how unrelated we think the two might be. The "sacred/secular" divide never did exist, and realizing this seems to open up a clearer view of God.

Newsweek did an interview with her a few years back when a TV movie of "A Wrinke in Time" aired on ABC. (short review: Not as good as the book, obviously, but far better than just about anything else on TV) It's a little salty at times, but there are a few things she says that I love:

So to you, faith is not a comfort?
Good heavens, no. It’s a challenge: I dare you to believe in God. I dare you to think [our existence] wasn’t an accident.
Many people see faith as anti-intellectual.
Then they’re not very bright. It takes a lot of intellect to have faith, which is why so many people only have religiosity.

2007-09-12T00:01:00.000-05:00

More show and tell:

My sister worked in a cave all summer where's it's always 47 degrees. I liked this idea back when it was 90-100 degrees every day in the Black Hills. The two of us went after hours to look around and take pictures -- which is never easy with a normal camera. This is one of the better ones I got.

A Monkey in the rock:

Jewel Cave's visitor center came very close to the fire that happened a few years back. You can see on Google Maps where everything burned around it.
That's outside the enterance to the cave.

Anyway, if you're out in the Black Hills and are looking for a cave tour, put Jewel Cave high on the list.

2007-08-24T00:39:00.000-05:00

"Like all true believers, I am truly skeptical of all that I have said" - The World Can Wait by Over The Rhine.

"We've got to stop equating Christianity with a smile." - singer/author Charlie Peacock, after a bandmate took his own life.

In the church, it seems like we fall into a few destructive habits:

1) We love stories of people who have it all figured out.
2) We love buying DVDs, books, and seminar tickets from or about people who have it all figured out.
3) Too much doubt and uncertainty from someone we thought had it all figured out will likely send us looking for someone else who has it all figured out.
4) We think good Christians aren't tormented by their questions and doubts.
5) We think there's such a thing as a "good" Christian.

A new book about Mother Teresa's spiritual darkness is coming out soon, and Time has an article about the response to some of the revelations. Some are cynically pointing to this to show that she was a closet atheist, others are comparing her to St. John of the Cross. Others have a hard time seeing the woman who took a vow of poverty and spoke of seeing Jesus in every person she cared for begging the same Jesus to return to her.

I'll probably have to check this book out in the future. I'm not always clear on the Catholic views of intimacy and experiencing Christ (although it's clear the view of the Eucharist is quite different than in the Baptist/Reformed circles I've lived in), but from the samples I've read it appears we sometimes suffer from the same problems: We believe in a God we cannot see, a Jesus who was on earth centuries ago, and a Holy Spirit we are told lives in the Christian. We are told the evidence is around us, and the stories of God's love are documented in the Bible.

And yet, few (if any) can pretend to not sympathize to at least a small extent. Part of the faith is the questioning. I don't know how there can be belief without doubting at first. King David wrote accusatory Psalms to God, demanding to know where he went. While we all love a happy ending (and our music and Sunday School version of Bible Stories tend to emphasize only the happy endings, sometimes at the expense of the actual story), David's story does not end with what would be considered "happy." One son dies in birth, another is killed, his best friend is killed in battle, and ultimately his other son would be the downfall of his great kingdom. We like the stories of the child killing the giant, the older man opting not to kill Saul out of respect for his God, even the repentant man caught in murder and adultery. But the other side of David, the side we see when we read the whole story, is one of tragedy and times of emptiness.

If we're honest, none of us have it all together. Searching the history of the Christian faith or even our own friends and family should show plenty of examples of this. If we know beforehand that we're not immune, we can plan ahead and look for hope beyond tangible evidence.

"Love Never fails, mercy will prevail - I want to swear it's true, but it's so hard to defend it" - Mercy Will Prevail by The Choir

2007-08-19T07:29:00.000-05:00

Show and tell time:
Getting to the Black Hills really is half the fun, provided you do it right. Sure, there are tourist traps every 10 miles on the highway, and the drive is absolutely boring as a child in the back seat (as I can attest to many times over). However, if you don't get suckered in at every "world famous" hamburger shop and trinket saleman, you can really make the most out of a 350 mile drive from Sioux Falls to Rapid City.

I always like to stop at the Chamberlain Rest Stop right before the Missouri River. The view is the best on the first half of the trip: The wide part of the Missouri (technically it runs through Lake Francis Case), with a view of both the I-90 bridge and the old railroad bridge. This is then followed by the abrupt change in landscape, as flat farmland filled with corn and beans is replaced with wide open spaces and rolling hills. Towns are more sparse, as are other people. Abandoned silos and barns dot the side of the road, and you really are hundreds of miles from the nearest sizable city. This is a great place to stop, stretch, and prepare yourself for the change.

This time on my trip I stopped somewhere I'd never stopped before: Okaton. I found a webpage that explains some of the history, but the short story is that it's basically a ghost town along the side of the Interstate. Some people decided to make it a tourist spot, which has had mixed results. Still, there's a gas station and a Post Office still there along with the invitation to check out some of the abandoned buildings provided you watch out for snakes.

Main street Okaton, South Dakota -

The other side of the street is endless prairie grass and hills. You really get the feeling you're in the middle of nowhere. For some reason, I'd love to explore more of the area next time.

2007-08-06T08:34:00.000-05:00

Rule one about having a blog: Do not blog about work.

So I won't.

That being said, I'm told I get my worrying streak from my father, who inherited it from his mother. When things are going right, being content and full of hope is easy. When things are uncertain, and may stay that way for awhile, it's a different story.

I know I'm watched, loved, taken care of, and guided. If I need to, I'll search the evidence daily.

2007-08-06T08:21:00.000-05:00

2100 miles later, I've been to the Black Hills, the Badlands, the backroads of South Dakota, and a motel in Winner. It was a wonderful week where I got a chance to visit my sister and spend the time out in some rather amazing country.

I don't think I'll log the entire trip like I did Ecuador (and attempted to do with Michigan), but I might still summarize some pictures a little later as I go through them. This one is from the Badlands, near a Northern boarder of the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation - about a 20 mile from from Hermosa, SD. It was a hot day (112 according to one thermometer), but a memorable one of taking backroads and gravel into the badlands. I highly recommend taking a day to do this if you are ever near the Black Hills and want a trip that will take out far away from the usual tourist destinations.

Other pictures and short stories are on the way, later.

2007-07-08T06:49:00.001-05:00

Sunday morning, 6:30am

I usually don't stay up all Saturday night and go to the early service at church, but today I'm giving it a shot.

With the sun rise noticeable before 5am, you might as well stay up, at least for the sunrise and throw on some good music.

Rich Mullins' "The Color Green" is one of my favorites for this time in the morning:

"Be praised for all Your tenderness by these works of Your hands
Suns that rise and rains that fall to bless and bring to life Your land
Look down upon this winter wheat and be glad that You have made
Blue for the sky and the color green that fills these fields with praise."

For a slightly more avant-garde feel, Godspeed You! Black Emperor (pronunciation is correct, and yes, it's art-rock) has a nice long piece that sounds like an early morning storm called "Storm." The first part of the 20-minute instrumental piece, called "Life Your Skinny Fists like Antennas to Heaven" (again, art-rock) can be downloaded here. It's perfect for a sunrise, regardless of the weather.

The other song this morning is from Fernando Ortega, and his song "The Breaking of the Dawn." Traveling through the night (or some mornings where the sunrise is hours away), I think of this song often.

The hawk wheels away as we pass here
The clouds billow up and fly on
Down the road some hard turns
Are going to shake us
Ride with us
Through the breaking of the dawn

As I'm cleaning, reading, and finding other ways of staying awake for just a little longer, this is one of the easiest ways to keep from dozing off.

2007-07-03T07:37:00.000-05:00

I made a quick comment about Bishop NT Wright before. He's something of a critical darling in the world of those questioning the world and state of evangelicalism.

I noticed that the Washington Post has a short essay online from him on Heaven and Hell, or, rather what we've turned it into.

Heaven is important but it's not the end of the world: in the mainstream Christian tradition until the Platonists corrupted it, the ultimate destination is THE NEW HEAVENS AND THE NEW EARTH, which will involve an ultimate resurrection (bodily, of course) for God's people (in some versions, for all people).

This is something I've been thinking about for awhile. Not death so much, I'm not exactly morbid, but rather the idea of Heaven as presented in much of popular church tradition (at least in the Evangelical world where I usually work and play) seems to be far removed from what is actually mentioned in scriptures. Some days I think we're more influenced by Bugs Bunny cartoons (guys falling off a cliff and then floating up to heaven with harp in hand and wings on the back) and a desire for escapism than anything else.

When I worked in Southern Gospel radio, there were a lot of songs about heaven. Songs that talked about seeing mama (or grandpa) up there again, songs about that old time religion getting us there, songs that talked about how the singing would be in heaven would be like a gospel quartet, songs about seeing the saints of old, songs about the lack of bad guys there....it was a basically a Rorschach Test where you got to see what you wanted to see.

The more frustrating aspect of all of this is the idea of Heaven as our "home." Songs and sayings I hear these days talk about our "homecoming," aka "when we die." I think this one bothers me more than others, mostly because there is nothing in the Bible telling us that "Heaven" is our home or even our final resting place. It almost seems like we're attempting to ignore the grieving process, denying that the curse has claimed yet another as promised.

This means (by the way) that the 'second coming' is NOT Jesus 'coming back to take us home', but Jesus coming -- or 'reappearing'.... to heal, judge and rescue this present creation and us with it.

When I go out traveling, I'll eventually start referring to my motel of two nights as "home." I remember in college when I finally called my dorm room "home," and even how happy I was to be there instead of in classes or studying. It's normal, not disrespectful or short-sighted, to do this. We're in the inbetween time, and that's never a bad thing to remember. We'll move again, and someday we'll celebrate together the ending of the curse, but until then we are here. We'll be here again, in a sense.

Anyway, read the essay - especially if your mindset of the earth is "when will this be made right?" instead of "when do we get to leave?"

2007-06-29T08:51:00.000-05:00

In a few weeks, I'm off to the Black Hills to visit my sister who is working at Jewel Cave National Monument. The plan is to drive out Saturday (the same Saturday the last Harry Potter book comes out - that'll be a dangerous trip), spend a night in the Badlands and drive the backroads to Iowa towards the end of the week. We'll see what happens, but I'm usually a fan of taking the odd route or two.

As with my other travels, I'll attempt to get pictures up when I get back. I've been going to the Black Hills with family for over 20 years, and there are plenty of little things you never get tired of out there.

2007-06-23T08:46:00.001-05:00

Silly post time.

I stumbled across a list entitled "The 10 Most Bizarre Beers." Beer for dogs, beer milk beer, and free beer all make the list, but my favorite description so far is for Kidsbeer:

"Children copy and mimic adults. If you get this drink ready on such occasions as events and celebrations attended by kids, it would make the occasions even more entertaining."

Well, yes it would, I guess. If you call kids standing on the table wearing a lampshade doing karaoke to the theme for Barney "entertaining," I can't really disagree.

(Actually, the stuff is non-alcoholic, but the imagery was just too tempting.)

Get them some candy cigarettes, give them a bottle of Kidsbeer, and send them out barefoot on Halloween with a baby in one hand - with an optional toy shotgun in the other. Better yet, put it in their lunchbox.

2007-05-17T08:42:00.000-05:00

I had a co-worker just return from a week long trip to Alaska. She and her husband flew up to Anchorage, rented a trailer, and drove up the highway to Fairbanks and came back. I'd heard some of the stories from the trip, but I could easily have heard more. She kept saying that Alaska is a different world from the rest of the US, and I would have to agree.

My two years in Alaska are at times a blur, due to spending 5-9 months at a time in the same two villages. After such a long time, a trip out to the big city of Anchorage is nothing short of entering another culture. I remember spending an hour in KMart, admiring the selection and prices (food and clothes in Bush Alaska are usually twice the price elsewhere due to shipping), and then going over the Boarders Books to do the same thing. The experience in the grocery store was similar.

However, the most interesting and most amazing part was driving a little 1987 Pontiac through a blizzard from Anchorage to Nenana in early January. I visited another Christian Radio station (KIAM), and our station (KAKN) was in the middle of creating a partnership with them. Going through mountain passes with heavy winds in a temperamental vehicle (prone to dying on said mountain passes) in January is probably the second best way to see the interior of Alaska. The first seems to be renting a trailer in Anchorage and going in May. I may have to try that someday.

Then again, this the road trip I want to go on if I'm going to go that far. The Dalton Highway is 400+ miles of varying road qualities that lands you a short distance from the Arctic Ocean. Even the village at the end of the road isn't so much a village as it is a small hub for oil workers. I can't imagine what happens if you pop a tire or run out of gas, but I'm sure you'd have a story or two for your grandchildren. Check out the pictures on the site I linked; they routinely serve as a Desktop for my computer at work.

Maybe it's the fact that it's about 45 degrees out combined with talking about Alaska with someone who just was there, but I've been thinking about the summer in Alaska again. I should find an excuse to make it up there. Anyone have a vehicle they need driven up to Anchorage? I've got PTO saved up.

2007-05-02T05:07:00.000-05:00

Oy, I've need to update this for a long time:

The new free MP3 is from The Innocence Mission, who I'll probably go on and on about in the future.

This song is called "Into Brooklyn, Early in the Morning"and is off their new CD "We Walked in Song." I still don't have it, but since there's a good record shop two blocks from my house I probably don't have a good excuse.

They're a decidedly Lo-fi group these days (although early on in the 80s and 90s they sounded a little like 10,000 Maniacs or Sixpence None The Richer), which is fitting since they tend to write about mundane things -- snow, seasons chaning, quiet rivers, friends moving, birthdays, loss, hope, love, and other things we tend to miss when not paying attention. This is all done without a bit of angst or irony, two things that it seems the music industry (and pop culture as a whole) deal in exclusively at times. It seems like they've contemplated the "beauty in the mundane" more so than most groups.

Check it out.

2007-04-17T08:22:00.000-05:00

It's started.

This is probably my favorite time of the year. It's somewhat cold in the morning, but not too bad. If I leave the window open in the bedroom when I go to work, it's just the right temperature when I'm ready to go to sleep in the morning.

When I get up in the afternoon, there's still a few hours of sun - and plenty of time to go out for a long walk, a drive across town, or just wander over to the park across the street and listen to the Twins on the Radio. It's not hot yet, and the bugs won't be out for another few weeks. (Aside - it's funny how much you forget about bugs when it's the middle of January. When it's been months since you've seen a fly wander onto your computer screen, you tend to forget the things exist. Then by the middle of July, you forget that there's a time of the year they aren't even a factor.)

Sunday mornings around 6am are the best time to go out hiking or just wandering around the neighborhood. There is almost zero traffic. The fog is still on the lakes at this time of the year. You may see your breath, or you may not. The radio is filled with sleepy announcers and weekend news shows. The animals don't expect you to be out yet, so they do unusual things like congregate in front of your lawn at the first sign of light (the ducks do this often on our street, as does the neighbor's cat -- but usually not at the same time.)

For about a month, it seems like Minnesotans trick themselves into thinking they can put away their jackets and forget about snow falls. Then we suddenly go from a few 60s and 70s to three inches overnight. A few days later, it's back to spring. By the middle of May, we're pretty sure we're done with winter -- and then summer hits us with all of its humidity.

Anyway, it's short, but enjoy spring. We seem to finally have found it.

2007-04-12T00:28:00.000-05:00

While I'm on the topic of gadgets, here's a Hamster-Powered Paper Shredder.

Don't have a hamster for your hamster wheel? How about a USB-powered hamster wheel that goes faster when you type faster?

2007-04-11T08:13:00.000-05:00

For sale: One Radio Teletype machine, circa 1930s or 40s. Open to anyone willing to come and get it.

For the last 15 years, my bedroom in my parents' house has had this rather large machine in the corner, collecting dust and confounding anyone who entered the room. It was given to me many years ago, after another radio enthusiast was going to find a way to trash it, but thought it could still have some use. It's a radio teletype machine from the WWII era, a machine used to send and receive radio signals that are converted to text. In a way, it's a very early forerunner to the fax machine. The technology is still used, albeit not nearly as much since satellites came along a few decades back and the Internet become more popular over the last ten years. However, these days all it takes is a program on a floppy disk on a 20 year old computer to replicate what this old machine could do. I last tried it out a few years ago and it still works, even if the paper is quite yellow and frail, and you'd be able to hear the machine running from outside the house.

This past weekend, the family and I managed to move it past numerous narrow doorways and new floors and get it out to the garage where I've got a few weeks to find someone to take it. It's awfully heavy (it took all four of us), and I couldn't really think of anyone off hand who needs one. Still, I'd much rather find a place for it -- I'd hate to see something potentially worthwhile tossed to the curb.

I could talk about radio for a long time, to be honest. That I can sit with a 60 year old machine and still pick up conversations between people across the globe fascinates me. The idea that all of this could be replaced by a laptop is amazing and also a little dispiriting - where is the joy in spending time cutting the right amount of wire and running it out your front window to pick up a newswire from Switzerland when you can just look it up? Much of the fun in an old machine like this is getting it to work. Thankfully, I still have a few old radios around -- the nicest is this one from the early 50s. On this, I was able to get a station from South Africa sounding as clear as something down the road. You don't get that experience with online radio -- as fun as that is anyway.

2007-03-06T07:57:00.000-06:00

From the LA Times:

Nearly a decade ago, at 14, Isshag started publishing a handwritten community newsletter about local events, arts and religion. Once a month she'd paste decorated pages to a large piece of wood and hang it from a tree outside her family's home for passersby to read.

But after western Sudan plunged into bloodshed and suffering in 2003, Isshag's publication took on a decidedly sharper edge, tackling issues such as the plight of refugees, water shortages, government inaction in the face of militia attacks, and sexual violence against women.

Her grass-roots periodical has become the closest thing that El Fasher, capital of North Darfur state, has to a hometown newspaper.

There's plenty more to read. Stuff like this is interesting to me, as someone who can just sign up for an account and get to say whatever the heck he wants -- and then forgets to update now and then.

If you've been following the situation in Darfur, than you know it's been a terrible situation. The BBC has a short Q&A for more information.

2007-01-04T21:05:00.000-06:00

HA!!

So, after finishing up this long, final part I discovered somthing: It's easy to accidentally save and delete this at the same time. So, after re-writing and looking for older versions, here is the long overdue 3rd part.

Final part of Ecuador:

One quick word about shopping at the markets in Ecuador. Like much of the markets around the world, haggling is common. There is no set price, and I always do terrible at negotiating a price. It is doubly difficult when it is in a language that you do not speak all that well (although numbers are usually easier for those of us raised on Sesame Street). The oddness of a contently-paid guy from the US fighting for $2 off a rug is too much for me, usually. Just give me a flat written price, and I'll accept it or continue shopping.

Anyway, after a visit to the market, we spent the afternoon and early evening taking a Gondola lift to the top of the nearby mountains just outside of Quito. After a few ear poppings, we threw on our jackets and went out for a walk, looking out over Quito. According to a GPS, we were about 13,100 feet above sea level.

A few other mountain pictures:
Eye-Level Clouds
The only picture of me on my camera.
My Aunt, feigning ignorance of Spanish.
Looking down from the side of a mountain, causing notable amounts of concern from my aunt and father.

We could have kept going for a long time, but we found out we'd been keeping our bus waiting for quite some time already -- as we suddenly found people coming up to find us.

The next morning, my father and I had arranged to take a tour of HCJB. HCJB is a mission radio station that was started in Ecuador 75 years ago, and is spread across many countries now. I first listened to shortwave radio 20 years ago, and HCJB was one of the first stations I remember hearing. In addition, Northwestern College (both my alma mater and current place of work) has a campus in Quito. Oddly enough, the HCJB buildings were about 2 blocks from our Hostel. After a walk over, we had tour of both the radio ministry as well as the hospital they run. As expected, the health care issues in Ecuador are quite unlike the US. The guide claimed that this hospital was the second best in the country...the other one being the one only the upper-class could afford. The radio side of things was also rather enjoyable for me, considering I had been listening to this station for 20 years from thousands of miles away - and was now getting a chance to visit them firsthand. What was especially odd for me was the fact that I was also on an NWC campus after being thousands of miles from home. Some of it reminded me a lot of the place in Minnesota.

Unfortunately, on our way back from the station my father got rather sick and was out for the rest of the day. We still don't know what he ate (we ate the same thing the night before), but he stayed in and slept while watching subtitled Star Wars on TV as we went to visit the future home of the US embassy. It turns out that people working on the new embassy we able to ship wheelchairs from the US, which was a great help in terms of shipping costs.

The next day (Saturday) he was much better, and we made our way over to the Football Stadium where Franklin Graham was set to preach that evening. However, early that morning we were set to help out with the "Festiniños" - the part of the festival geared towards the children. We spend a good part of the morning handing out bead bracelets and keeping the kids entertained while they waited to be let in. Inside, we also were able to hand out crayons and coloring books to nearby children. The scene inside the arena was quite impressive: kids on stilts (more on that later), Music (notable better than our Christian kids music - they're allowed to have a beat!), jugglers, stuffed puppets, and ultimately a play that I didn't keep up with very well. It was in Spanish, and I could tell it was ultimately a redemption story but I was somewhat lost. All in all, it was a beautiful morning with tens of thousands of kids and parents.

After spending the morning at the festival, a few of us made our way back to the hostel the long way. Across the street from the football stadium was the aforementioned large mall in Quito. We stopped in to take a look around -- just imagine your local mall with mostly Spanish stores -- and have some lunch. I decided on chicken and potatoes at the food court, while my Aunt (with little support from anyone else) went to Taco Bell. In Quito, Ecuador. Less then 24 hours away from our departure back to the State.

While sitting down for lunch, we had a few people sit the next table over who recognized us. We didn't recognize them, but they knew us from seeing us load the bus in the morning. They lived in a small house next to our hostel, and helped run a ministry for street kids and runaway children. Through this we found out that they were the ones that were on the stilts that morning at the Festiniños. Small world.

After lunch, we walked back to our Hostel, which was probably about a mile. Along the way, I decided to stop at a store selling DVDs. After a few seconds in the store, I found that most of the DVDs in there were bootlegged. I had seen pirated DVDs for sale in Ibarra (the $4 copy of "Cars" looked a little suspect), but didn't really stop and look at the copy of the Discs themselves. In addition to the Xerox'd covers and DVD-R discs, it looked like piracy was not only a problem in this part of the country, but rules were not strongly enforced (most of the time, more on this later). I ended up not buying anything, and imagined the hassle trying to get back into the US should someone decide to scour my bags.

That afternoon, my uncle and I went out to the center of Quito - specifically the colonial settlements. He has a love of cathedrals, and I was certainly ready to see another part of town. All of this required getting on the busline and depending on me to figure out what the driver was saying so we knew when to stop. Fortunately, this wasn't a major problem (not because of my knowledge of Spanish -- far from it. I simply was able to read the map and count the number of stops. The worst that could happen is that we get to the end of the line and turn around.).

The center of Quito has a more European look, which wasn't that surprising. In this part of town the streets were noticeably more narrow than just a few miles north. After finding where we were going, we ended up at the first Iglesia de San Fransisco. There were not any cell phones allowed inside, and cameras were not allowed either. This, however, did not prevent some people from using their cell phone camera to take a picture. At least my uncle didn't use a flash and sit up front, unlike some tourists sitting in the front pew of the church. I was able, however, to take pictures in some nearby cathedrals.

Finally, after a few hours of walking around in the afternoon sun, we made our way over to the football stadium to hear Franklin Graham. Outside the arena, there was quite a number of dealers and vendors selling food, books, and music. Some of the food looked rather familiar (chicken and rice are pretty universal), and cuy was quite popular. On the other hand, the music being sold was looked rather suspect. Looking at the CDs and DVDs of "Christian" music and movies, much of which was US-based but dubbed into Spanish, it was clear that there were a few CD-Rs and Xeroxed covers. Apparently, we weren't the only ones to notice this, as we saw a small group of Police and Security crews patrolling the entrance, only to see people scramble to cover up their goods and stuff them into a box.

The inside on the arena was packed, as we stood the edges of the stands. Franklin would speak a few sentences, and pause while the translator would speak. He's much like his father in terms of delivery, so if you've ever seen Billy Graham speak on TV or in person, you'll have a good idea of what was going on. Finally, after much of the convention was done, we took the long walk back to our Hostel - followed by a large number of people coming out of the arena.

Back at the hostel, we had a very American final meal in Ecuador: Pizza Hut pizza. You could see both Pizza Hut and Dominoes off in the distance when walking towards the Hostel, which still seems a bit odd to me -- you don't find Pilsner Beer or Inca Cola in the US too easily. The pizza we had was nothing out of the ordinary, so I didn't get a chance to see if the Ecuadorians has perfected a regional version. All was this was done by about 8pm, so we could get our final bits of packing done and get to bed so we could be awake at 3am. Our plane left just a few minutes before 7am, and I haven't gone to bed at 9pm in so many years, I wondered if I'd be able to sleep. Thankfully, a day of walking around Quito had worn me down enough that I was able to be awake the next morning. Sort of. I at boarded the plane without issue, I do remember that part.

It's been hard to summarize the trip to Ecuador easily. We had a little letdown with the issue of chairs not getting there in time, but also had the joy of meeting others in the country who were able to show us the meaning of love. I guess I (finally) finish this with the Image that sticks with me: One man carrying another on his back, waiting his turn in line to get a wheelchair so he can move. Both have a Christ-like quality: the man carrying the one who cannot walk, and the one who is "the least" in the room, the one easiest for society to ignore.

2006-12-27T00:39:00.000-06:00

The rest of the Ecuador trip is on its way, but first:

I don't get chance to watch it much, but I love King of the Hill. It's been on for about 10 years now almost as an after thought -- usually preempted due to football games on FOX. Still, it is usually full of subtle humor and light parody. Like Hank Hill, the straight-laced and stoic lead character, the show keeps going on and makes amusing comments about life and society without demanding attention.

After visiting Texas, I also found out that King of the Hill is a documentary.

Anyway, I found a clip from the show where the Methodist Hill family does some chuch-shopping. After a few disasterous stops, they end up at a mega-church with HD screens, trams, and a gift shop. Enjoy:

2006-12-09T04:03:00.000-06:00

Act 2:

For supper that night, we had stopped at a strip mall with numerous resturants and stores that wouldn't be out of the place in the suburbs here in the states. Pizza Hut and Kentucky Fried Chicken (both untranslated) were two of our options. This, however, just seemed odd to us -- you don't travel to another continent and eat at places you can walk to from your house. Nonetheless, my father ordered a pizza for us from a local establishment before I could object. It was standard pizza, however, it was accompained by a group of girls playing on the foosball table next to ours. Some things are easier to translate than others.

After spending the night in Ibarra, we went back to the church the next morning do clean up and prepare for our trip back to Quito. After this final stop at the church to load our bus with additional chairs we slowly made our way back. Admittingly, the rest of the day was not a filled, which was nice after a long day before.

On our way out of town, it was clear that Ibarra was much like other cities: beautiful and somewhat prosperous at the first glance, but had populations that couldn't easily afford what we shopped and ate at the previous night. The disparity is something I don't think we're used to as much in the well-off suburban and urban areas.

For a late lunch, we spent time at "El Mitdad Del Mundo," aka The Middle of the World. It's a monument and tourist stop on the Equator about 10 miles north of Quito. The centerpiece of this is a monument that is placed right on the line that separates the Northern hemisphere from the Southern. We took an elevator to the top of the monument, and we able to get a wonderful (albeit windy) view around us. Here are a few more pictures: Due West. Nearby villages. Right on the line.

That evening, we made it back to our original Hostel and had most of the evening free. Our Hostel is located about 4 blocks from one of the major roads in Quito, as well as next to one of the malls. The mall contains a McDonalds, a coffee shop, and a number of upscale resturants -- and it was somewhat strange to think of myself as in another country, one that is often referred to as "third world." A few blocks away, and it was a little easier to remember. They also had a sizeable movie theather, one that was showing mostly US or British-based movies. I just hope they don't get their view of the US from Tom Cruise and Jennifer Aniston movies.

The next morning we headed out to a local Hospital and Hospice to distribute chairs for some of those in the Hospice. While some spent their time fixing chairs on the site, I ended up, again, taking pictures for us to catalogue back in the States. There were subtle reminders of the neighborhood around us. First off, we were right next to the airport, with planes going overhead every few minutes. The other reminder was the barrier of broken glass bottles that surrounded the hospital area to keep people out. Still, out on the patio, it was a rather nice view of Qutio. Inside, people continued to fit people into their chairs while people like my father helped out the patients.

In the afternoon, our groups split up. My father and I went out to the local marketplace while others took a short tour of the city. While we both had a nice afternoon, we were unable to take part of a bit of Ecuadorian culture. It seems that the rest of the group had a chance to sample Cuy - BBQ Guinea Pig. From what I'm told, it is quite the delicacy in Ecuador and other Andean cultures. It is fried whole, skinned, and then presented. I'm also told it tastes like chicken, or possible rabbit. Believe it or not, but I actually kind of regret missing this.

Part 3 is on the way, again, sooner than later.

2006-12-03T06:43:00.000-06:00

I think one of the reasons that it's taken me forever to write about Ecuador is because I'm trying to find supurlatives that aren't overused on "missions trips." I'll get my cynicism and linguistic rants out of the way first, just because the trip was largely cynic-free.

When on a trip like this, it's easy to compare Ecuador to what I know based on only a small sampling. The grass is greener, most notably when you've only got a week - and that week is spent largely in the prosporous capital city, within walking distance of two malls - either of which could have been in Minneapolis or Edina. When some of that other time is spent wandering around after dark in other sizeable cities, it's hard to gague a whole country on a short trip. It's jarring to walk past a Tower Records and cell phone billboards, and then be told the country's average income is about $300 a month. The disconnect is a bit striking.

That being said, I loved my time in Ecuador. As someone who has lived all but two years in the flat world of the midwest, waking up to mountains on every side of you is something you don't want to get used to too easily. Strangely enough, even though Quito is about 10 miles south of the Equator, I wore a long-sleeved shirt or a jacket nearly every day - the city is located rather high in the mountains. Even some of the mountains near the city were snow capped.

In short, our goal was to distribute wheelchairs in connection with some of the churches in Ecuador - who had already found people in need. This happened many of the days we were there. Unfortunately, about half of the chairs we wanted to give out (around 300) were still on a barge in the Panama Canal by the time we got there, so were had an extra day free. Still, that left us with a large number to give out.

The majority of the chairs were given in Ibarra, a city about 60 miles away - a three hour drive via bus. We set overselves up in the courtyard of the Bethel Iglesia Del Pacto Evangelico (Bethel Evangelical Covenant Church), but there was a long line in front of the church before we got there. We spend most of the day talking to people about how the disabled manage in Ecuador, fitting people in their chairs, cataloging pictures of people in their chairs for office use (which was my main duty), and hearing about the lengths people took to get to Ibarra. Many took long bus trips (3-14 hours) to pick up a chair, while others were carried on the backs of friends or mothers. Others sat outside the church for at least 12 hours, waiting for the shipment of children's chairs in the evening. I knew that my definition of patience needed to be stretched, and this was a good day to see examples of what waiting means.

I will get to Part 2 of this sometime the week. Really. I'm making a note of it. Now that I've got all of the photos online, it shouldn't be much of a problem.

2006-11-17T08:12:00.000-06:00

Mine?

Two quick things:

-Every morning around 8am seagulls circle my driveway and land about 3 houses down. They are there for about a half hour and then they depart. I'm guessing they are mirgrating, so it won't be for much longer. Thankfully I have a garage.

-I am experimenting with finding a way to upload all of my pictures from Ecuador, which is one of the reasons I'm slow. The other is that I procrastinate. However, it was a wonderful trip that I'd love to talk about here or in person. I'll try to make the former happen in due time.

2006-10-31T02:46:00.000-06:00

We're in the middle of an election year, and around this time I'm always thankful for the invention of the mute button. I remember hearing about anatomy of a political campaign:

Step 1: I am [insert name], and I am running for [insert office].
Step 2: I want to serve in [insert office] because I [love my state/love my country/can work for the people/my family is in the business/have few other qualities that merit my employment]
Step 3: I am different from [insert opponent's name] because I [insert advantage over opponent]
Step 4: My opponent says that I am [going to raise taxes/soft on the war/inexperienced/on drugs], but [she/he] is [incorrect/lying/misquoting me/also on drugs].
Step 5: You can not trust my opponent for office because [she/he] is [funded by extremist groups/drunk most of the time/agrees with the President/disagrees with the President/sits outside your child's school with a telescope].
Step 6: [Opponent's name] is [The Antichrist/Hitler/Going to ruin your life/The worst thing to happen to this state/Ugly].
Step 7: My opponent ran a good campaign and I want to congratulate [him/her] on [winning the election/serving the community/being cool about that house egging last night].

As an aside, I think it is brilliant for Minnesota Public Radio to put their pledge-drive towards the end of a political campaign. As people dive for the dial when the local ads kick in elsewhere, I'm guessing they see an upswing in giving.

2006-10-06T07:58:00.000-05:00

The story of the shooting in the Amish communities are showing a lot of people the world of the Amish - a world that we possibly know only through jokes and cultural stereotypes.

Still, the story of the Amish community that suffered these deaths is one that I can't get out of my head.

After Monday's killings, the grandfather of one of the slain girls went to the home of Roberts's father, consoling and hugging him, pouring forth a love and innocence of the kind remembered of the girls in the school. "He extended the hope of forgiveness that we all need these days," said a Roberts family spokesman, the Rev. Dwight Lefever of Living Faith Church of God. "'God met us in that kitchen."

- Yahoo News

The oldest of the five Amish girls shot dead in a Pennsylvania schoolhouse is said to have stepped forward and asked her killer to "Shoot me first," in an apparent effort to buy time for her schoolmates.

- ABC

I guess I'll just make a suggestion and ask that you read all about this, and read about the Amish response. I know that there are criticisms of the Amish way of life that other Christians have. I'm guessing a few of them are quite valid. However, in this case they're all fading out. Right now, all I can see is Christ in these people.

2006-09-09T05:20:00.000-05:00

Here's an open scenario and question:

You're out on a hike, and you're getting thirsty. It's getting to the point that you're ready to take your empty water bottle and fill up at the closest source of water.

The first one you come across is a small pond. It's not terribly large, but the water looks okay, provided you can avoid some of the floating twigs and algae. You can see the bottom of the pond in the more shallow areas, and it's mostly sand covered but has an embedded beer can or two. It's likely stream-fed, but you'd have to look hard to find the trickle that's been feeding the pond. Still, it's probably safe to drink.

The other option is a nearby river. It's moving along, albeit not terribly fast. You can see a few rocks jettisoning out of the moving current, but little else due to the somewhat muddy nature of the water. You've seen fisherman up the trail in the past. The river goes for miles and has come for miles. Through farmland and towns, it is fed by both fresh spring and drainage runoff. It also is probably safe to drink.

Which one would you choose?

2006-09-09T01:11:00.000-05:00

4 Recommendations:

I went to the Columbia Grounds on Central near the Columbia Heights/Minneapolis border tonight to read and escape the house last night. I've driven by this place numerous times, and finally decided to stop in and it was worth it. Make a point to walk through the garden in the back yard while there's still a little bit of summer left.

While there, a local folk group called Saddle Rock which was there doing an acoustic set. More than a nice set of folk music, the guys were quite nice fellows who seemed to love what they considered their first love and second jobs. While using the time-honored tradition of leaving the guitar case open, they kept the small number of people in the room entertained with some great music and great sense of humor. Their CD release party is in a month.

After they finished, they started talking with a few girls who had wandered in. I continued to read, but then one of the girls mentioned she was a guitar player in a local band. One of the band members gave her a guitar and she started playing one of the songs she just wrote the other day. As he mic'd her up, I stopped reading at this point -- there's a rule somewhere that says you have to pay attention to a girl playing a guitar (beyond the usual three chords) who has a really nice voice and good songwriting to boot.

Anyway, I talked to her afterwords and found out she and her band got their start at Northwestern, my alma mater, and her band was called Furlough. I recommend the song "Bitter Cold Wall" out of the songs on their Myspace site right now.

All of this was while I was reading "Simply Christian" by NT Wright. This book is getting buzz among frustrated Evangelicals across the 'net, and is also getting a lot of comparisons to "Mere Christianity." However, it can stand alone and deserves more than comparisons to another classic -- and it certainly has the potential to be a classic about the faith. Wright is a bishop in the Anglican Church and writes about Christianity in a way that seems separated, but not divorced, from the western cultural mindset of the faith.

Interesting quote:

"One of central elements of the Christian story is the claim that the paradox of laughter and tears, woven as it is deep into the heart of all human experience, is woven also deep into the heart of God."

2006-08-28T08:53:00.000-05:00

Signs you work overnight:

- You walk into your bedroom at 10 at night in the middle of the summer, and can't get over how dark it is in there.

- Your favorite pasttime in April is "Starting at the Sun at 6pm"

- You get up early in the Winter to see the sunset

- You know full well that the middle of August, at 3am, is the best time ever to go out for a walk. Add a light breeze and they should open parks at this hour.

- The funniest television is not on during prime-time, nor is it on Comedy Central. Is it found at 3am and involves infomericals for questionable health products.

- You know where every 24 hour store is within a reasonable driving distance, and even a few that are not reasonable but could still prove useful if you decide to shampoo carpets at 2am.

- You realize that Cub Foods really is open all night. However, there is always a long line at 1am, because there is only one checker and about 10 people lined up. Around 3am, clerks stop looking at you like you are a customer, and start looking at you like you have issues.

- You wonder why all of the stores close so early on weekdays, and you live in a large city.

- You've contemplated taking a nap at 11pm.

2006-08-27T07:23:00.000-05:00

This morning at 6:45am I saw my breath for the first time this summer.

2006-08-13T06:28:00.000-05:00

Awhile back, I posted a short comment that said I was going to Ecuador at the end of September. Here are a few more details:

I've known about this trip for a few months, but details have always been sketchy. Now, my tickets are purchased and time is officially requested at work. However, I've been asked to call in on the air while I'm down there, so I wonder if I can count that on my time card...

I'll be in and near Quito for most of the week I'll be there, working with Hope Haven - a ministry to the disabled, it's also where my father works. We'll be distributing donated and fixed wheelchairs (more info on the link) in some of the villages around the area. In addition, we'll be distributing wheelchairs before a Franklin Graham festival in Quito...something that wasn't in the works until after I said I'd go, so that's a neat opportunity as well.

Since I learned about this trip about 2 months before I'm set to go, I had to get my passort renewed, which was issued when I went to England over 10 years ago. There's a way to get it expidited, so I shelled out the money to get that done. The claim is that it will take only 2-3 weeks. Everyone one I've talked to says that is the case, so I'll take their word for it. I need it in about 5 weeks now.

This should be a great trip (anyone been to Ecuador?), and I'm certainly looking forward to it. I know I'm biased because I have family involved, but I love this ministry and the attitude it has. I'm sure I'll also be posting pictures and writing out info again here, so if I don't see you between now and late September, check back!

2006-08-13T05:20:00.000-05:00

Vacation log: Special Edition.

A request of sorts was made for me to jump ahead to when I was by the Apostle Islands in Wisconsin, which was Wednesday early evening June 21st. I've also got a few pictures to add.

In context: I was on my way home, and this was my second drive by the islands. I didn't get as long as I wished in the area (I was on the road for about 13 hours that day, stopping quite often), but I still got to stop and take a few pictures.

Anyway, I decided to stop in Bayfield to take a few pictures of the boats in the lake, as well as the Islands in the background. I took these pictures in a no-parking zone, something I realized after I got out of my car. So, take a look while you can at the contraband.

After this, the next time I really saw the Islands was when I stopped at the visitor's center about 15 miles down the road. A storm had recently passed, and I had pulled off the road about 2 hours previous (more later). Still, it was incredibly windy when I arrived, to the point where they had the Coast Guard out looking for a few people on kayaks. The people at the visitor's center were apologetic (!) and said that they had a terrible storm pass through earlier and expected another one later on. The water was incredibly choppy, and I couldn't imagine anyone trying to go out in a little kayak in this weather. For the next hour or so, I managed to walk on the piers, talk with people who were working there that summer (who informed me that some people were holed up on a inland because they were too afraid to boat back), and tour a little fish hatchery that was no longer in operation. After awhile, the wind managed to calm down, and it started to look much better out on the lake. As I was leaving, some people decided to try out their luck.

So anyway, that's my short stop by the Apostle Islands. I certainly recommend spending much longer there. Just remember, there's not a whole lot else in the area. If you get bored, you can see the area's claims to fame. You can also stop on the Red Cliff Indian Reservation, which you technically pass through on the way to the islands. In the village of Red Cliff, there's a nice little gift shop where I picked up some great tea made from Spearmint, Eucalyptus, and Ginseg.

With that done, I'm back to the real order of events later on. However, I've got a few housekeeping things I want to post first.

2006-08-12T04:41:00.000-05:00

Monday, June 20th -- 2am (it's 1am somewhere)

It's been a long day. I slept horribly last night in Ashland. It's certainly not the fault of the motel, I just never go to bed before 5am, so my body couldn't convince itself to crash anytime sooner. I had to be up by 10am for the check-out, and was tempted to sleep out in my car in protest.

Your mind does funny things when you can't sleep. Around 5am, when I was still wide awake, I seriously thought about getting in the car and driving until I got to my next motel. Or, possibly, getting out on the lake and walking until I couldn't keep my eyes open. I knew both were quite awful ideas, but it beat laying in bed waiting to be too exhausted to turn over again. Still, I looked out the window and saw the first signs of light on Superior and decided against it.

Anyway, I left Ashland around 11 and decided to get on the road right away. I stopped in Odanah, a village on the Bad River Reservation outside of Ashland, to fill up on gas and get an easy lunch for the day (pizza slice, soda, chips --- hey, I was on vacation). After this, I was on my way to Ironwood, Michigan. It still seems strange that Michigan is only about a 3 hour drive from Duluth, and from what I can tell the people in this part of Michigan would be happier to be identified with Duluth than Detroit.

Gas was even worse after crossing the boarder, about 10 cents more than Wisconsin. After, again, going through town at about 30 miles an hour and noticing the lines of small, cheap motels, I decided to make a quick stop at the local K-Mart for a few last minute items. There was also a dollar store next door, which had an extra pair of socks and cheap soda for $2, and I was off again only to stop about 5 minutes later.

This part of the state is largely covered by the Ottawa National Forest, so when I came across a visitor's center I stopped in to find a few maps and get some advice on where to go. After looking around and getting suggestions, I decided to take a small road that followed the Black River up to lake -- stopping every few miles to view the numerous waterfalls along the river. I lost count as to how many there were, but it was possible to hike out to all of them. If I were ambitious enough, I could have started out near Ironwood and hiked all of the way to the shore. I decided against this, but it's nice to know the option was there.

The first stop on this road was Conglomerate Falls, which was two falls in one. After about a two mile hike down to the river, it was worth the wait. After a few more stops along the way at Gorge Falls and a short hike between other falls, I ended up at the harbor at the end of the road. While it was somewhat warm out, it was a perfect day to be out by the water.

On the harbor there was a small park and gift shop where I got a few post cards. After this, I went out for a walk on the bridge over the river to the other side. This is where I met a little bird that verbally harassed me for much of my time there. I didn't get too close, but it was clear that she was not happy with me and my presence. Protective little things.

Anyway, after a nice long walk I went back into the car and went back down the road and jumped ahead an hour. I'm not sure why, but this part of the state is in Eastern Time, even though it's a few hundred miles west of Chicago still, which is also Central. Either way, it was suddenly 6pm. I was getting sleepy, which is a terrible thing to have happen to you on the road. So, I turned up the AC, turned on a song that always keeps me awake (Spock's Beard's "The Great Nothing" - nearly a half-hour in length). Fortunately, I made it to Silver City before it got much later.

Silver City is barely a town, more like a settlement of tourist shops and motels on the bay of Lake Superior. My motel was another 3 miles down the road, which quickly turned to a rough gravel road. Still, down this path was the Entrance into the Porcupine Mountains State Park - and The Silver Sands Motor Lodge right on the edge of the park. I highly recommend this motel if you ever decide to stay in the area, for reasons that I'll get into later on. It's a great place with ambitious hosts who also run a gas station/continence store on the grounds. It's all located across the street from the lake, which is perfect for sunsets.

After checking out the room (nicely sized and once the air was on, quite comfortable), I went into "town" to find something for supper. I found the "At The End of the Rainbow Cafe" down the road, which is something like a drive-in that you can find in many small towns in the mid-west. However, these people had their cafe at the edge of the forest, and therefore had a bear or two roaming around the back. They were fenced off, so I took a seat outside to see if they'd show up a little closer. While one of them did, it quickly was scared off by a group of other people who loudly informed people nearby to grab their cameras. Oh well, I have plenty of bear pictures from Alaska.

When supper was done, I went into Ontonagon, the closest "real" town. It was a bit farther than I anticipated, but this made for a nice drive along the shoreline. Ontonagon (as I'd learn in a few days) was a logging town as well as one of the main ports on the Superior. These days, it's clear they are working on becoming more accommodating to tourists. I took a long drive around town, and realized it was a big larger than I expected for only about 2,000 people. I decided to turn back to the motel, and check out the town again over the next few days.

Back at the motel, it was about 9pm, and the sun was starting to go down. I stopped at the little gas station right before it closed to pick up some breakfast for the next day and some bug spray for the next few hours. Then I went across the street with my lawn chair and set it in the sand and watched the sunset on the lake. I even had a loon bobbing around in the lake, which would have made a perfect picture if I could have gotten him into frame. This is a perfect way to end the day. By about 9:50, the sun was all but set, and I decided to head in. After watching the sun for an hour, I turned around and saw that it was considerably darker to the west, and it really was night finally -- two days before the longest day of the year.

I took off to my room to shower, write post cards, and watch Star Wars III that was on HBO. After that, all I really wanted to do was sleep longer than 4 1/2 hours.

The next day's plans were to hike around Porcupine Mountains, drive into Ontonagon and make things up after that. I came close.

2006-07-23T06:34:00.000-05:00

Lord Willing, I am going to Ecuador in about two months. More later.

2006-07-23T06:12:00.000-05:00

Finally, I've got the first day of the vacation up! I hope you enjoy the pictures!

Sunday, June 19th 2006

At 1am, I am finally ready to wind down. After getting a late start, I filled up at the SA and went down to my first stop in Ashland, Wisconsin. I decided to take the long way (a phrase to get used to) to Duluth - a popular vacation route considering the steady amount of traffic going back south.

First song of the trip: Fernando Ortega - The Traveler

Stopping at a rest stop north of Hinkley, I called my grandfather for Father's Day. He was just finished up watching the Twins win, and listening to a few polka CDs my sister and I got him. He's 81, and I am blessed.

The next stop was Duluth, which is always an amazing trip up the hill right as you look ahead and see the first glance of the town and Lake Superior. I'm sure people who live there are used to it, but I don't know how. When I lived in Bristol Bay, I'd usually take a drive out to the bay a few times a week.

I stopped for a few seconds a rest area, but finding it closed, I crossed over to Wisconsin. Superior, WI – like Duluth is built along the river. This means that the speed limit is set at 30 miles an hour through town, and with a Minnesota license plate I wasn't going to test this limit. After the long drive through town and a few detours later, I found the exit to the “Scenic” route along the lake shore.

The first part of this special route was rather dry, with most of the signs telling us that we couldn't use farmer's private driveways to access the lake. After a few miles and a little bit of rain later, I saw a sign for the Brule River State Forest and mouth of the Brule River. The road to the mouth was 4 miles of unkept, ruddy gravel road. I got out about halfway though the ride to check my tires out, since most everything in the car was shaking. They were fine, but I'm sure I took a few months off of their lives. Poor things.

The scene and the end of the road was worth it. There were a few other people on the beach, most of whom were just walking around and picnicking, but a few were trying their luck at the fishing. While it was cloudy, it had stopped raining for the moment. After wandering around the beach and scaring off some seagulls, the sun came out the clouds for just long enough to brighten up the sky. I pulled out my camera, and tried to take a picture. My digital picture does strange things when pointed at the sun, so I thought I've give it a chance anyway. Here is the result. I actually kind of like it, and doctored it a little later on. If I can upload it later, I will.

The beach reminded me a lot of Bristol Bay in Alaska on a cloudy day...the waves were gray and cold, and the clouds obscured the shoreline on the other side. There were also a few ships with their lights on out in the lake, which was one of those scenes from Alaska that I'll always remember.

Back on the road, I next stopped at a little village called Port Wing. It's a small tourist town, one that seems to come alive in the summer and sleeps during the winter. There was one open store that I found at 7:50pm when I pulled in, a gas station. Like all other gas stations in the rural midwest, it has gas, a small amount of groceries, tourist information, fishing and hunting license sales, a deli, VHS tapes and a few DVDs for rent, and a high school student who looked forward to the closing time in just 10 minutes. I used the restroom and grabbed some soda and jerky, and that was the last open store I saw for the next hour and a half.

The rest of the trip that day was filled with small towns and roads that lead to the Apostle Islands (most of which was visited on the way back). However, I did stop a few times when I had a chance to walk out to the shoreline. At least once, I was greeted with a sign telling people of the potential for bears on the shore. I didn't see one on the shore the whole trip, but at least I saw one the next day. After driving through the Red Cliff Indian Reservation, a spotting a deer crossing the road just a soon as a crossed the boarder, I turned south and passed through Bayfield, a tourist town built around the Apostle Islands.

Eventually, I made it to Ashland, a nicely sized town on the side of Superior. At 9:20 I pulled into my Motel. The lady who checked me in said that I was the last person she expected that night, and with that she closed up and went home. I was still wide awake, so I went out for a short walk along the shoreline, since my Motel was right on the lake. After battling with the bugs, I conceded defeat and went out to McDonald's to find a salad for supper....all while watching the little but of light still out of the lake at 10pm.

Not bad for a first day. For me, traveling is a nice mix of conquering long treks of road, followed by deciding to take an unmarked road just to see where it goes, along with pulling off and viewing the scenery for as long as I want. That usually serves me well on a trip.The next day would include heading up to Michigan, watching the second best sunset ever, and seeing a black bear wander in the woods before tourists scare him off.

2006-07-12T09:24:00.000-05:00

I'm getting on that whole travelogue thing. Really.

2006-06-26T08:50:00.000-05:00

I updated the "Free MP3" listing on the right and made it a little more honest.

That being said, Weird Al recorded a parody of the omnipresent "You're Beautiful" by James Blunt. However, Blunt's label doesn't want Al to put it on his next album. Being the nice guy he is, he put it up on his website for free instead. Scroll down about halfway and there are a few links.

Weird Al. Free. When I was 10, I would have considered this the best gift ever. I'm a little older, and I still think it's pretty cool.

2006-06-25T05:09:00.000-05:00

1024 miles were added to the '95 Pontaic this last week, bringing the total up over 179000. Just 21000 to go until I ponder its retirement.

I made a trip up to the Upper Pennisula of Michigan over a 4 day period. It was a calm, relaxing time travelling along the Superior shore, stopping at various sites along the way when I took the chance.

I'm going to try and give a condensed version of my journal, along with some extra pictures. For the first time I filled up my camera card, and then took an additional panoramic disposable camera along. Some pictures turned out pretty good, so I'll be happy to share them when I get a chance.

2006-06-18T05:53:00.000-05:00

Mr Yuk, that round sticker of a green guy with his tongue out is going on 35 years old.

Why bring this up? I was reminded of the kid-friendly warning of "This is bad for you!" the other day when I came across a TV ad from the early 70s for the sticker campaign.

My parents had these stickers all over the cleansers and bleach when I was little. Since it was a guy looking like he could barf on command - almost anyone could get the message. We'd get stickers from the local poison centers and put them all things we weren't allowed to use as kids.

Of course, this didn't stop me from posting the stickers all over the sidewalk and porch a few times. After this, the stickers were out of reach. Until one day.

I had to have been around 5 or so, and this bizarre, disturbing PSA came on the screen. The ad, with cut-rate animation, has Mr. Yuk singing (or a friend? Possibly Mr. Yuk Senior? Maybe it was Mrs. Yuk. It's never really expained) about his face appearing on the bottles of liquids in the vanity or drug cabinet. Don't drink them, or you'll get sick and turn into a child with a bad cowlick.

The majority of the lyrics were "Mr. Yuk is Green....Mr. Yuk is MEAN [evil laugh]!!!"

So, are we to fear Mr. Yuk, or assume that he helps us figure out which products are bad for us to drink? If he's truly mean, why doesn't he materialize onto some bananas or a bag full of Cotton Candy? He'd be the scorn of child and parent alike.

Anyway, the thing sent me running from the room screaming. Not helping were the backgrounds that look like they were created by someone who had ingested plenty of materials Mr Yuk warned us about. I remember watching cartoons and leaving the room until I knew the commericals were over. Had I just watched PBS more often, I wouldn't have been as traumatized...or, you know, I could have read a book or played outside.

So, finding this thing after over 20 years, I have to say the creepiness factor is still there, even if it's even more outdated now. I don't know if you can scare the crap out of kids as easily these days, even if for the wrong reasons, but this thing seemed to work. Congratulations on your anniversary, Mr. Yuk. I'll buy the next round, provided we're dealing with drain cleaners.

2006-06-06T09:15:00.000-05:00

I think I'm doing the right thing.

On the first weekday at my new residence, we received about 12 calls, all but two were telemarketers. Since I sleep during the day, most of those came while I was in bed. They usually show up as "Toll Free" on the Caller ID box, or "Unknown Caller."

I do what I can to have patience with the people on the other end. I almost accepted a job at a local Public Broadcaster in their fundrasing department that included cold-calling people and hitting them up for cash. I couldn't do it. Two friends from college did telemarketing for a summer and hated it, so I try to have some compassion. However, they told me that the best thing to do was to hang up -- that way the person on the other end will be saved from having to read from the "What if they say 'no'?" script. When I told them that it sounded rude, they disagreed, saying there's little worse in that profession than reading all the script and then being rejected.

So, now I hang up during their preamble. I don't think I'm being rude. Telemarketers have called twice since I started this, one being the same newspaper for the 4th time in two days.

On the plus side, I'm now on the national Do Not Call list. However, I hear that they can't make marketing calls to cell phones, so maybe there's an upside to those newfangled wireless things....

2006-06-03T04:42:00.000-05:00

Steps to moving:

1) Plan ahead. If you plan ahead, you will not be stuck at the last moment, cramming everything you own into one box and praying for its integrity as you carry it to your car.

2) Look at the calander, and realize that you have a full month before you move. Walk around your current domicile and collect the fond memories of your times there.

3) Realize that you stink at packing, because you can't decide to throw out old magazines or keep them. Spend the night you set aside for cleaning and packing reading old issues of Paste and debating if you really want to find that obscure Godspeed You Black Emperor album they were talking about.

4) Find a book under the bed that you totally forgot about and read it all night.

5) After keeping this up, look up and find out you have to be out of your house in 48 hours. But at least your bedroom and bathroom have never looked so perfect.

6) Sneeze. A lot. This much dust hasn't been kicked up in the house in years. Go through a box of tissues.

7) Realizing that people will be here in about 3 hours to help move, cram everything you own into one box while praying for its integrity as you carry it to your car.

2006-04-07T08:11:00.000-05:00

I needed a haitus, so I hope people are well rested by now.

On the short list of "best idea for a website I wish I thought of": Make Me Watch TV

The idea is this: A guy, who appears to live near here, has a poll for every half-hour between 7-9pm Central. In this poll, he has a list of prime-time shows and a few other suprises. You vote for what he'll watch that night. If he's lucky, people have picked something cool like Veronica Mars, Scrubs, or even a This Old House rerun. If he's unlucky, it's C-SPAN or a Britney Spears concert. For an added bonus, he has a webcam tuned to him so you can watch him watching TV...if you're into that thing. After this, he'll write up a little summary.

Oh, and he accepts bribes. You really want to subject him to an infomerical to something called "Yoga Booty Ballet?" He's all yours, for a price.

Supports the local arts, check him out.

2006-02-21T09:11:00.000-06:00

"It is in deep solitude that I find the gentleness with which I can truly love my brothers. The more solitary I am the more affection I have for them…. Solitude and silence teach me to love my brothers for what they are, not for what they say." - Thomas Merton

We can't handle silence anymore.

I realized awhile ago that I could easily go the entire day without having a moment of real silence. I get up in the morning to a radio alarm, and have the radio on in the bathroom. The TV can be on while I have breakfast/supper, a CD on while I drive to the store, music on at the coffee shop, the radio station at work at for 8 hours, and TV on before I go to bed. During the summer months, I can add the fan I put on in my bedroom to keep it a little cooler for those 90+ degrees days I'm trying to sleep. Even then, I always notice after putting the fan away for the fall how used to it I've grown. It usually takes me a few days to get to sleep normally with relative quiet.

I was reminded of this again last week at church.

To be fair, this is not directed at any one person, and it is not fair to single out my church for this observation -- in fact I think the church I attend is considerably more aware of the potential for overkill and tacky behaviour in the service than others. They are good people, and this isn't a rant directed at them.

Still, it was towards the end of a good sermon by the pastor. While somewhat early (for us Protestant types, at least), the message was on The Cross and the suffering of Christ. Good, traditional, solid preaching. So, at the end of the service, the pastor says he wants it silent as we pray....at which point the guitar player kicks in with the chorus of a modern praise standard. There was no chance for silence, and within a few seconds he started singing the words as well. Not only was it not silent, there wasn't enough time for me to formulate a few thoughts before I was asked to join along with the chorus.

I did a quick Google search of silence, and noted that silence is listed more often as a bad thing ("Do not suffer in silence!" "We shall not be silent!!") than a thing to treasure. The bottom second page finally gets to silence as a spiritual dicipline. Ironically, I also came across two CDs with "The Silence" in their name as well as at least one record label. None of them were John Cage.

I remember talking to someone in college who was visiting a new church. The church, while somewhat contemporary in style, had a few moments of genuine silence in the middle for people to think and pray without competition from other sources. This person couldn't handle it, and stated she couldn't go back if that was commonplace. Even a year ago I was out in the country, far from a paved road. For the first time in awhile, I realized it was totally quiet, unlike the city. I realized again how easy it is to add layers of sound to your life and not even notice.

Admittingly the world around us is not silent these days. If I open a window, I can hear the Interstate going by, something my older neighbors didn't deal with decades ago. Popular music is almost entirely silence-free, same with modern music at the church. You walk into a store, and the chances are likely you'll hear music at best, advertisements at worst.

I work at a radio station, a place where I have around 5 sources of audio I need to monitor for most of my shift. Silence is a killer for us, something we are trained to avoid. I even had something called a "silence sensor," telling me if one of the audio sources isn't working correctly. If something happens and one of the computers running the station crashes, I have a button to push that will play instrumental music until things are fixed. If a listener catches silence on our station, they are likely to flip the dial, so we avoid it as much as possible. If I hear more than a few seconds of silence, I know something is wrong.

Recently, I'm forcing myself to spend time in silence. Not (always) "silent prayer" type silence, but just silence. It's not that I expect a great revelation from God from it, or expect to become more at peace with life. It's just something I think needs to be done, a sort of detox when you have sound coming at you for most of your day.

"Experience teaches us that silence terrifies people the most." - Bob Dylan

2006-02-07T08:26:00.000-06:00

I'm starting to get worried about the movie industry.

I mean, how many "Man raised in a convent decides to enter the Mexican wrestling industry in order to save said convent for future orphans, as well as impress a cute nun" movies can be made before the whole thing collapses in on itself?

Seriously, check out the trailer to Nacho Libre. It's out this summer and it looks like it could be hilarious.

2006-01-29T07:09:00.000-06:00

The end of civilization has happened too many times already for me too add on. Still, if I were to add some evidence, this would be the first place I'd look:

Bling H2O, of Beverly Hills, is the inspiration of Kevin G. Boyd, a Hollywood writer-producer. While working on various studio lots where image is, well, everything, he noticed that you could tell a lot about a person by the bottled water he/she carried.

Bling Water. No, really. It's Bling Water.
Here's the fun part:

His mission was to offer a product with an exquisite face, to match the exquisite taste of his target customer...and at $38.00 a bottle, that target customer shops on Rodeo Drive. The product is strategically positioned to target the expanding super-luxury consumer market.

So, $40 for a bottle of water, simply for the status of having a $40 bottle of water. I guess my re-used Diet Coke bottle is going to look rather passé.

2006-01-06T00:52:00.000-06:00

From the Right Reverend Doctor Edward Daniel Taylor's Miracle Faith Prickly Heat Telethon of Love:

Dr. Edward Daniel Taylor: Okay friends, let’s take a break and go to our "Fruit o’ Ministry" tote board and check our total.

The way the tote board works is this: we count UP the amount of souls that have been saved by this ministry, and then subtract the number of souls that have been permanently hardened towards the Gospel by this ministry which produces the grand "Fruit o’ Ministry" total.

Souls saved: --- 11! (sound of an ascending tone)

Hearts irrevocably hardened: --- 153 million?!! (sound of a long descending tone and dissonant organ chord)

People! We got negative fruit here.

Why does this sketch mentioning fruits remind me of the news of the day?

Oh, just the usual.....

2006-01-03T09:15:00.000-06:00

I will find the exact version soon, but the mind has been on the quote "It is one thing to build castles in the air, it is an entirely different thing to attempt to live in them."

I was reading this in the oddly prophetic book "Amusing Ourselves to Death," by the late Neil Postman. I was assigned this in college and it's been one of the books I've probably read at least once a year since.

As I mentioned elsewhere, I work in media - radio to be precise. 100 years ago, my profession didn't exist. Radio was in its infancy with its first voice broadcast over a year away. My line of work has been around less than a century. Many of my friends work in professions that have been around for far longer - music, law, teaching, child care, church ministry, and the like.

To be honest, this is a little unsettling. For most of modern history, the media as we know it didn't exist. Yes, books and scrolls existed long before movable type. However, the ability to read was required, something not all the commoners had. At the same time, an orator could speak his mind, however the range of his voice was the limit of his immediate reach. Around 150 years ago, this limit was broken with the invention of telegraph wire, and destroyed by the 1900s with radio. Now, with the ability to talk to anyone around the world is limited by only the speed of light and the speed of sound. It takes about 1/4th of a second for the station I work with to beam its programming up to a satellite and come back to us in our receivers.

However, is this a good thing? Neil Postman writes about this idea, but refuses to give easy answers. The idea that we are, in many cases, talking to no one specific is both romantic and depressing at the same time. How do you address no one and everyone? Much of radio (notably Christian radio) has the romantic view that "if just one person" is listening, it is worth it. Then again, for a station that runs on donations, that may or may not be true.

Still, the current mentality of radio demands we keep it going all day, all night, if we have listeners or not. In a modern city, radio must be 24/7, whether they have the content to fill 24 hours or not. The question is rarely "How do we fit everything we want to do and say into 24 hours?" but instead is "How do we fill 24 hours of programming?" This is why you turn on many stations and hear repeats of talk shows at 1am and infomericals early morning weekends.

Like technologies before and after, radio gave a person power and freedom they could not have imagined just a few years before. Within a short time, the romantic ideals of the new medium gave way to the mundane realities.

2005-12-08T04:44:00.000-06:00

The first in the Chronicles of Narnia movies is coming out this weekend, and people are already talking about what other CS Lewis books should come to the big screen.

This isn't what I expected to hear:

Baehr also notes that top Hollywood producers are starting work on C.S. Lewis's "The Great Divorce,'' a fantasy about the dead being given a last chance to choose heaven over eternal exile.

That's Ted Baehr from the semi-infamous MovieGuide. I haven't seen any other reports of this, other than this AP interview. If I see something more official, I'll try and update this.

Still, "The Great Divorce"? As a Hollywood movie? Maybe as an arthouse flick, but I can't imagine a movie with this much philosophy and theology would be a hit at any movie theater. I'm sure the prospect of "The Great Divorce" happy meals and plush toys may not be there, either.

2005-11-30T08:11:00.000-06:00

Oprah watch:

Here is today's lawsuit waiting to happen.

2005-11-21T05:15:00.001-06:00

From this week's Life Magazine, from an interview with the Harry Potter cast:

What about fan mail? Have you gotten anything strange?

Emma [Watson - Hermoine Granger]: I get sent Bibles. I have about 20 in my room. People think I need to be guided.

2005-11-19T04:04:00.000-06:00

Huckster healers in the US don't have anything on those in the Phillipines:

A popular radio broadcaster-healer in the Philippines was wounded in a gun attack by a man who complained the victim failed to cure his smelly feet, police said on Friday.

Personally, the worst I've heard of in the US is Bob Larson's attempt to deliver someone from the demon of heartburn. It seems the devil is behind all of our embarassing body problems.

It's hard to believe you'd go to a radio host to get your feet cleaned. Trust me, we're not that good. Have you seen the kitchens at radio stations? We can't get lipstick off of a coffee cup. Not that I know this personally.

Anyway, before we laugh too much at people across the ocean, remember we've grown a few hucksters of our own.

2005-11-11T02:23:00.000-06:00

Born Into Brothels

This is a belated review, written a few months back. In need of an update --and to promote a great movie-- I thought I'd put it here.

Born Into Brothels is a documentary about the children of Prostitutes in the red-light district in Calcutta, India. The story revolves around 8 different children (about 11-14 in age), all of whom are children of prostitutes, some of whom are very close to becoming prostitutes themselves. Each of them are given a camera to take pictures of what they see around the red-light district they live in. At the same time, we see the home-lives of the children, all of whom seem to enjoy the escapism their class on picture-taking gives them. At the same time, one of the directors attempts to get them into boarding schools where they can be educated and hopefully move out of the brothels that their mothers and grandmothers have lived in --- with mixed results.

In general, the movie does its best not to force its emotionalism, but rather gives a glimpse into a world where seeing your mother get paid for sex is an everyday fact. For some of these children (notably the girls), this is their lot in life, despite many of their dreams to gather family and escape from it all. Hopelessness abounds, even if the children have learned to compartmentalize it.

Tying this to a "spiritual" aspect, it always amuses me that Jesus got along with prostitutes so well. From far away, it's easy to condemn them -- so much of what seems to be wrong with human behaviour is personified in Prostitution. Greed. Power. Money. Lust - All things that we can't stand to see in other people. Yet at the same time, when seen up close, we see girls given no other options in life. We see women beaten and paid unfairly, living in terrible conditions. And, as in this movie, we see the children of those encounters. It's not pretty, and it's not something you'd want to tell everyone wanting to know your profession. The amount of guilt that has to go along with that life has to be unbearable at times, which would explain why women would come crying to Jesus. He even went so far as to say that prostitutes would enter His' Kingdom well before those who strived to keep the law.

2005-10-20T09:18:00.000-05:00

I wish I hadn't let my subscription to Maxim run out. Again.

The title of a recent article is "How to Score in Church." Here's a sample:

Scope out the finest churchgoer, then snag the pew in front of her. You won’t appear too eager, yet you can make eye contact easily—and shake her hand if there’s a “sharing of the peace.” Avoid making moves mid-service. “You’re in a place of bloody worship; you have to be respectful,” notes Tracey Cox, author of Superdate. Instead, listen to the sermon, which’ll give you plenty to talk aboutlater.

As an aside, "sermon" is too off-putting, but "message" tests well with focus groups, Dr. Cox. Keep that in mind. Also, "bloody worship"?? Hmm, I'm not Catholic, so I'll leave the stigmata questions to them.

Anyway, I should be offended. I'll get on that later. Still, I guess this is a nice marketing tactic for "progressive" churches (as the article calls them. And, as another aside, churches that are informal and have bands up front are about as progressive as a car with a CD player --- it's not meant as a novelty anymore, even if its marketed as such), come for the girls, stay for the message. Because, you know, pretending interested in something you're not is so attractive to the devout....

(via BHT)

2005-10-18T07:01:00.000-05:00

For some, if you don't remember the day you started your journey, then you may not have started at all.

The last two summers, I went out --almost on a whim-- on a vacation where I hadn't really decided where to go until a few days before. I never do remember exactly when I decided my destination, but I do remember going. Where I was headed was important, but it wasn't the only point of the trip.

I truly believe that many people, when they arrive at whatever destination they've been planning, will wonder what the hurry was. Anticipation is a mere hindrance, the cure is instant gratification. It's normal for a 7-year-old to constantly complain about being bored on a long trip, it's another for a 25 year old to continually wish to be at the end of his journey. The destination will be there when you arrive, becoming only more real while you continue.

Like most vacations, I plan on coming home sometime. However I travel, it turns out to be a round trip.

2005-10-10T09:00:00.000-05:00

I guess Gargamel finally had enough.

The people of Belgium have been left reeling by a public service commercial featuring the Smurfs, in which the blue-skinned cartoon characters' village is annihilated by warplanes.

When an article starts out like this, it can only get more interesting. Apparently it was sanctioned by the creator's family - who apparently like kicking the smurf of out his creation.

Here is the full article, with details and descriptions. If we're going this route, can I nominate the Tellebubbies to be carpet bombed next time? Elmo? If we're going to decimate children's shows, we may as well pick something recent.

Belgium once put out a Pinocchio movie where the title character was killed by burning to death. Really. I think it runs in the family.

2005-10-06T04:46:00.000-05:00

New Free mp3-of-the-undetermined-time-period on the right.

The Hold Steady are from Minnesota, full of references to area attractions from Osseo to Stillwater. It's a nice mix of 70s rock, Springsteen, punk, and a sometimes atonal vocalist who growls and shouts more than he sings.

Download away!

Oh, and Don't forget the previous MP3s from Hammock.

2005-10-06T04:32:00.000-05:00

Not watching Oprah is a hobby of mine.

I love finding new ways to not watch Oprah. So far, finding a job working overnight so I must sleep through the day seems to be my most inventive. There's also allowing my power to go out during storms two weeks ago. Unfortunately, two of those days were the weekend, so I'll have to find a more creative way next time.

Why not watch Oprah? The health benefits.

Angelique Fiorillo says the boulder that crashed through one wall of her second-story apartment and out another might have struck her if she'd been in her usual spot watching "Oprah."

Here's hoping more people take up this hobby. It could change, or even save, a life.

2005-09-29T08:29:00.000-05:00

This is just wierd.

I don't think the human body was meant to contort that way.

2005-09-20T06:42:00.000-05:00

The Fox News website has a news report up that reads "North Korea to Drop Nukes." As of now, it's on the right side of the screen under the banner "Free Video." At the same time, the Headline at the Dallas-Forth Worth Star-Telegram reads "Deal to drop nukes is reached." Editors: either you aren't doing your job, or you have a sick sense of humor.

2005-09-14T08:45:00.000-05:00

"The Medium is the Message" - Marshall McLuhan

This is the first of a number of rants about media. In recent years, the popular question about the media has been "Is it biased?" However, my question for a long time has been "Is it any good?" I'm lightly touching on that, and other questions here, but I'm guessing there will be many more. Comments, as usual, are welcome.

With the help of a few friends, I put a satellite dish on top of the house. I'm not done yet, but I've got enough done so that a few channels here and there can be seen.

What I'm working on is called "Free To Air" satellite, that is, channels that haven't been scrambled. While most common cable channels are scrambled, many interesting radio and TV stations can be seen just by putting up a dish for free. So far, I've seen a few interesting things.

Before I get too much farther, please realize that I don't mean "interesting" in the way most Minnesotans mean it. It seems "interesting" is Minnesotan for "weird," "bad," and usually "wow, that was terrible, but I'm from Minnesota and we're nice, so I'll refrain from calling it that." When I say "interesting," I mean it.

Anyway, there are numerous religious channels for free. Christian, Catholic, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and Scientology all show up in one form or another. After watching some of the Buddhist and Christian channels (I'm waiting until I finish the installation before I can see the Muslim and Hindu stuff), I'm convinced that any religion is going to look silly and incomplete on television. If you want an honest view of Christianity, please do not turn on the TV. If you want a good view of Buddhism, please don't take a celebrity's word on the matter. And if you want a view on obscure Jewish sects, for the love of Metatron please don't ask Britney Spears.

The question of whether or not TV reflects or changes culture has been raging for decades. Personally, I believe the TV is a fun-house mirror, and those that spend too much time admiring what they see won't be able to view the real world rationally. Those who look will, even if temporarily, forget they are looking at a distorted mirror. Those who hope their religion (or their non-religion viewpoints) will be well-represented should not get their hopes up. You can't take a tradition that includes thousands of years' worth of text and ritual and expect it to translate well into a medium that is primarily used for entertainment. And TV is entertainment, right down to the words chosen by a script writer and the self-grooming an anchor does seconds before he goes on the air (another fun facet of owning a dish -- you get to watch unedited "live" news reports.) Even that which is not meant to entertain must still conform to the standards of an entertainment medium. Few ugly TV preachers exist, and -as I learned recently- the Buddhist monks and the Scientology peddlers always have a welcome and encouraging smile on TV as well.

Anyway, the picture on the top is from Dhammakaya TV, which is from a Buddhist temple in Thailand. They have a little broken English now and then, which is quite nice, but they still haven't explained why singing crocodiles in drag pop up now and then during speeches by monks. Anyone with knowledge in Southeastern Asian languages is invited to help me out, since I'm at a loss. Check out the site at the link above, the little "animated" videos are worth the time alone.

Well, that's my first media rant. Since I work in radio, I'll be ranting about that technology sometime soon.

2005-09-09T08:45:00.000-05:00

I guess in the war for truth, I'm fighting on the wrong side. I'm part of the Post-Modern problem, one of those who say that words means what I say they mean.

On the sidebar, there is this link called "Free MP3 of the Week." That's probably not going to be exactly true. I'll update it, but probably not every week on the 7th day. Sorry.

Anyway, check it out when you can. This week it's a few songs from Hammock, a band that's either post-rock or ambient, depending on who you ask. It's fairly slow, lush, quiet, harmonious, and well worth your time to download. I heard them on a Public Radio show called "Echoes," awhile back. Apparently, they've also been on Music From the Hearts of Space, but since the local Hipster public radio station won't play that show, I wouldn't know that first hand. Speaking of which, I should really work on my rant about the state of radio in the Cities. At least 5 Public Radio stations and a major college station, and no one can run cool shows like Afropop Worldwide, Hearts of Space, Echoes, or Thistle and Shamrock.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Hammock. Download and enjoy. I'm off to bed, with a reminder not to blog so long after my bedtime.

EDIT: I got a comment saying that the MP3 link at the right wasn't working. It should be now.

2005-09-07T07:59:00.000-05:00

Jesus Saves -- you at least 15% on car insurance.

(HT: to Horn+swoggled)

In a bid to raise money for a new fitness center and upscale coffeeshop, a Dallas church has agreed to accept a sponsorship for its weekly sermons. The deal involving Great Life Community Praise Center and Geico Insurance is believed to the first-ever agreement between a church and an advertiser, for a message delivered inside a worship service. But Pastor Dan Wilkins insists that his church's Gospel message will not be compromised.

"I guarantee you, we'd never do a deal that would force us to change our message," Wilkins said. "But this sponsorship with Geico is a perfect vehicle for the good news that Jesus can make their lives better."

Read the whole thing. Like all good fiction, this story has some basis in truth.

However, this kind of idea isn't new. 50 years ago, a Baptist church decided to fund a B-Movie director, in hopes they could use the revenue to spread the gospel via film. The director? Ed Wood. The movie? Plan 9 From Outer Space, unofficially the worst movie ever made.

Still, I'm sure someone out there is thinking of a plan to increase revenue in the church. I wouldn't be suprised to see an ad or two between announcements on those gigantic video screens that are all the rage these days. They have to be paid for somehow...

2005-09-06T08:49:00.000-05:00

To set the tone for this blog, this is my favorite 'news' story of the morning:

Suicide Grasshoppers Brainwashed by Parasite Worms

2005-09-06T08:18:00.000-05:00

I didn't mean to do this.

Initially, I signed in just to leave a comment on someone's blog. I had no intention of starting one of my own. Now, a few hours later, I find myself sitting with a blank blog, wondering why I followed through with all of the registration and the like. I even gave it a name, "The Inbetween Time." It sounds po-mo cool, and I'm guessing it'd make a good name for some emergent church somewhere.

Anyway, we'll see how often this gets updated. Expect spurts, rambles, links to weird news stories, attempted fiction, pictures, haituses (sp?), theology, heresy, and a mixing of all of the above.

Since I don't have much else listed, a bit about me: I live in the Twin Cities of Minnesota, although I used to live in Iowa, Mankato, Alaska, and near Worthington for a short time. I work overnight for The Skylight Satellite Network, which is a part of Northwestern College and Radio, along with KTIS. I've worked in radio in one way or another, since I graduated from college, so it's kind of nice being able to work in a field you've had interest in for almost 20 years. Radio was my big hobby for years, and it still is, but thanks to big city electrical interference, it's been supplemented by other hopelessly nerdy things like computers and stuff like that. Fortunately, I've been getting out this summer to local parks and nature centers to bike and hike, so at least I'm trying to break a few stereotypes.

I grew up in a Covenant Church, moved to a Reformed Church, went to a "non-denominational" (read: traditionally Baptist, but ecumenical) College, worked with a Lutheran-run radio station, and now usually go to a non-denominational (read: contemporary slightly-but-not-really-charismatic) church, except when I visit an Orthodox Presbyterian Church. Confused? So am I, which is part of the fun.

Well, let's see what happens.